


Don't Say It

by ConfessionForAnotherTime



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anal Sex, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, M/M, Multi, Nausea, Oral Sex, Sex with Twins, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 03:10:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2134854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfessionForAnotherTime/pseuds/ConfessionForAnotherTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash is haunted by the memories of previous lovers and hopes to not add anymore to that list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Say It

“What is there to understand? I only sleep a few hours a night. I don’t sleep well. I’ve never slept well. I figure it’s just as easy to roam the decks as it is for me to lay in bed and count the amount of banana stickers I can fit on the ceiling without overlapping. It’s 4,926, by the way,” Wash explained as he unpeeled another banana, placing the sticker on one of his greaves.

 

“I didn’t asked you to explain it, Wash,” York replied with a grin, “I just figured you could use some more sleep is all. Judging by the bags under your eyes, you could use more than the ‘few hours’ you say that you get. Have you tried jerking off before you go to bed? Works for me.”

 

“No.. I most certainly hadn’t,” Wash said as he recoiled at the question, unaccustomed to such honesty about one’s own masturbation habits.

 

“Well, you should try it some time,” York called. He got up to head to the locker room, leaving Wash to chew his banana in silence as he contemplated York’s question. He didn’t have the heart to tell York that sleep evaded him because it reminded him of all the things he had fucked up when he was awake. What did he have to lose by allowing himself a few moments without thinking before bed?

 

\---

 

“Why the hell are the two of you telling me about this bet in the first place?” Wash asked from behind the hand covering his face.

 

“One: we plan to give you some of the money,” South explained, ticking off a finger, “Two: I’m hot. Three: my brother’s hot. Four: we get to fuck. Do I need to go on?”

 

“Fucking Christ South, if you tell one more person that I’m hot phrased like that,” North started, covering his face in his hands.

 

“You’ll what? _I’m_ not trying to fuck you; I’m trying to convince _him_ to fuck you. Or have you fuck him. Whatever, there will be fucking.”

 

“Jesus Christ,” Wash whispered, as North nodded in agreement.

 

“What if we give you $200 instead of the $100 I said before I could taste my foot?” South reasoned trying to get the two of them back into it, “it is so hard to wipe that smug look off of York’s face and I swear it won’t be weird.”

 

“How can this not be weird with everything you’ve said so far?”

 

“Shut up, North. Both of you hear me out. North and I won’t be… touching at all because THAT would be weird. We also agreed we don’t want you comparing the two of us since people love to compare twins on which one is better,” she said bitterly. “ANYWAY! We’ll each be focused on different parts of you, so you couldn’t say compare our blowjob skills because both of us won’t be blowing you.”

 

“This time,” North adds.

 

“So what do you say, Wash?” South asks, her toothy grin doing very little to sway him further.

 

“So, you two aren’t going to get weird with each other and I’m getting $200 and I get laid?” Wash asked, going over his options.

 

“We’ll even keep our shirts on so I don’t have to see South’s boobs, unlike last time,” North added.

 

“Why am I not surprised you two have done this before?” Wash asked as North tilted Wash’s head up, waiting for his approval. “Okay, fine.”

 

South threw a fist up in the air triumphantly, her brother’s lips locking with the shorter man. The two of them guided Wash over to his bed, unsure as to how this would work in such a limited space. The twins shrugged, South pulling the military issue sweats down past his ankles and off, his briefs going with. North busied himself with Wash’s mouth, kissing him with a fervor that Wash hadn’t experienced since that one guy in college. North’s strong fingers were gripping at his sides, his nails lightly dragging over his stomach and exposing him further to the cool air.

 

“This is just to get you worked up,” South explained, spending her time working Wash over with her mouth, taking him in and bobbing her head before pulling all the way off, his shaft leaving her mouth with a light ‘pop’. Her mouth returned to him, her tongue licking him from base to tip as she noted the moans that North was swallowing. Wash’s hips were shallowly thrusting up into her mouth as her hands pushed his hips down, her tongue working in circles over the head as he tried to push up into her mouth.

 

“Flip over Wash,” North told him when he broke the kiss, the younger man licking his lips as North withdrew, “spin around too.” Wash did as instructed, his hands on either side of South’s hips as she shimmied further down the bed.

 

“Hello there,” South said appreciatively as she gave him a quick peck on the lips and started sliding off her pants. He felt North move behind him, reaching around to stroke him, paying little attention to much else. South hooked a finger under his chin to smile at him before pushing his head between her legs after kicking her pants away. Wash felt a pair of fingers push against him, circling before pushing inside him as he moaned against the soft, wet folds in front of him. He tasted her, licking sling her slit and clit, closing his eyes to push back on the fingers working him open. North hooked them as he pulled out, drawing a moan from Wash. North removed his fingers, his length positioned against Wash as he pushed into him, drawing a moan from South as Wash’s flattened tongue caused much needed friction on her clit. She repositioned herself, tangling her fingers in his hair, her hips pressing against his mouth. North’s movements increased, working himself in and out of Wash at a faster pace, delighting when his angling produced moans out of the younger man.

 

“MMmm Wash,” South called out, her head thrown back, “why did you shoot me in the face?” Wash sat up immediately, his chest heaving. He covered his mouth, unsure if the wave of nausea would produce results. He didn’t want to take any chances. He headed to the bathroom, leaning over to splash cold water onto his face from the only faucet. He peeked back into where Caboose and Church slept, closing the door as he headed out into the broken mess of a base where Church had chosen to hide for the last 14 months. _Is this because I killed her yesterday?_ Wash began to wonder why that time? Why that one time that I had sex with both of them?

 

\---

 

Parting ways from the Blues landed him in more trouble than he had even though he could get into. From the confines of the UNSC prison he was being held in, he kept thinking about that weird dream with the twins. York had always told him that rubbing one out before bed helped him. He gave it a shot, spending himself quicker than he intended, cleaning himself up before heading to the cot in his cell. He didn’t expect her eyes to be the first thing he saw when he closed his own, pale grey and shining. He didn’t expect to hear her voice calling to him, asking him why. 

Wash sat up in bed, tucking his knees under his chin, hugging them, wondering when he ghosts would leave him. He thought of his friends often, but that was the first time one had chosen that method to plague him.

 

\---

 

Preparing for a mission set the two of them on edge. Considering recovering the Sarcophagus was the biggest one they had been set up with. Being together on team A with Carolina and now York was something that he didn’t think would happen so soon after joining Project Freelancer. He had grown close to a few of the other operatives in that time, Agent Maine being one of them.

 

The two of them always started rough. It didn’t matter if they were running a drill, practicing, or sparring, Maine and Wash never found themselves started gentle in any fashion. Wash wasn’t surprised to be pushed up against a wall in Maine’s bunk after they got back from the firing range as the hulk of a man usually needed some way to blow off steam after unloading several rounds into a target. As soon as the door shut, Maine pushed him against the wall, working his sweats down and off his legs. Wash was murmuring into Maine’s neck as a somehow lubed finger pushed into him, a sound of a cap snapping shut echoing in the silent room.

 

“You planned this.” Maine responded with a nod, pushing further into Wash as his knee kept his legs apart. A second finger slipped in as the first one had adjusted, slickly moving in and out. Maine removed both fingers to grab under Wash’s thighs and lift him up, his hard shaft positions outside his slick hole.

 

The moan that escaped Wash’s throat as Maine sank into him was hushed as soon as Maine’s lips crashed into his mouth. Maine broke the kiss moments later, holding a finger to Wash’s lips as he instructed him to keep quiet. Maine motioned for Wash’s legs to curl around his waist to the best of his ability while he held him up. Maine’s free hand was propped up against the wall that he had Wash pinned to as he pumped himself into the smaller soldier. Wash steadied his hands on Maine’s shoulders as Maine hiked Wash’s legs further up his torso to bury himself deeper in him. The change in position caused Maine to rub against his prostate, the bundle of nerves sending waves of pleasure shooting through his body.

 

Wash lost himself in the thrusts, the cold metal wall chilling him even through his t-shirt as the fire pooled in his belly. His own hardness bobbed between them, their short coupling already making pre-cum leak. He pushed himself against Maine, losing himself each time his prostate was brushed.

 

“Wash,” Maine growled out, his breath hot against his neck, “why the tow hook?” Wash woke up immediately, wincing at the throbbing erection that happened to be rubbing against the pillow he had wedged between his legs for back support before falling asleep. He weighed the options of taking care of it before he remembered what Maine had asked.

 

“Why the tow hook? What the fuck do you mean ‘why the tow hook?’ He couldn’t… have. Did he?” His voice quieted when he heard Caboose roll over in the bed next to him, murmuring in his sleep for Church and something about a motorcycle. No, there’s no way Maine could have seen him hand the Warthog’s tow hook to Sarge when he was crouched down, sending Maine over the same cliff that he threw Carolina off of so many years before. There’s no way. There’s no reason for his subconscious to fuck with him like this. Why now? Why would he think of the last time he heard Maine speak his name, the time time they-- Wash stared at the ceiling above his bunk until he heard Caboose stir for the morning.

 

\---

 

Settling into life with Caboose and Tucker in the absence of their leader was proving more difficult than anticipated. At Tucker’s request, Wash had taken to answering to “Church” after Wash donned his armor, taking his place as the leader of blue team with it. Sarge kept up the charade of the Reds and Blues still being enemies at this point which gave Wash a sense of purpose for a while, warding off his demons.

 

On the nights where all he thought of were teammates, he would sit with Tucker outside Blue base, pointing out the constellations and planets that he could pick out from their position. Tucker humored him, laying out in front of the base, delighting in the company he looked for and found so infrequently with Church, yet was able to enjoy with Wash.

 

“Wash, why don’t you tell me anything about yourself?” Tucker asked, his eyes still directed up, “Church shared stories of when he grew up, but since you joined up with us, you haven’t told us anything we didn’t already know. What’s up with that?”

 

“I just don’t have anything to share is all,” Wash stated blandly, moving to stand as he took several steps toward the base. “Besides, why waste your time on something boring. I’m going to bed.”

 

Tucker frowned.

 

\---

 

The sheen of sweat they have worked up catches on the light peeking under the door, the two bodies stilling as they hear footsteps outside the room. Wash ground his hips up in to the warm body above him, friction causing both of them to stifle a moan once the footsteps had made it past the door and faded. CT held herself in place, Wash still buried in her, laying her head down on his chest.

 

“That was close,” she breathed, leaving a kiss on his chest, “what’s that? third time just this week?”

 

“Yeah, well, if someone wouldn’t leave their panties in my room for cleaning crew to find in the morning, I doubt they would be doing hallway checks this late at night,” Wash countered, his hands settling on her hips to hold her steady as he ground up into her again, “besides, what are they going to do if we get caught? Send us out on a dangerous mission?”

 

“Yeah, I suppose you’re ri-ight.” Her voice hitched in her throat at the change in angle, moving above him to lift herself off his chest. One of Wash’s hands left her hip as he positioned it at the base of his cock, fingers on either side.

 

“Here,” he groaned as she lifted herself on his shaft, agonizing as how slow she chose to come down that time, feeling every inch of himself slide into her, “I saw this once. On a video. Don’t ask. Just rock against my hand when you come down.” She stared at him for a moment, unsure as to what his hand would accomplish right there. When she came down again, she rocked with him fully seated in her, his fingers pushing her inner folds aside, exposing her clit as it rubbed against the firmness of his knuckles. His other hand left her hip, teasing a hardened nipple. He rolled her nipple between his fingers as her pace quickened, with her rubbing more against his hand than she was riding him like before. He felt her shudder above him as he removed his hand from between her legs, licking his fingers before pulling her down to kiss him.

 

“But-- you?” she managed, her breathing shaky.

 

“Shh, doesn’t matter. The show you put on was all I needed.”

 

She swung her leg over, shuddering again as he left her. She cuddled herself into the crook of his arm, his hand settling on her back as he lazily caressed her. His right hand, still partly damp from her wetness, gripped his still aching shaft.

 

“Wash?” CT asked, her fingers rubbing one of his nipples as he pressed into the touch, his hand pulling faster.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Why didn’t you protect me from Tex?” His eyes shot open, the darkness of the room staring back at him. CT.. no, Connie, was long gone at this point. The abandoned armor in the desert was proof enough of that. Carolina explaining to him how her armor would be in the desert. How Tex had hit her in the chest with a throwing axe. How the Insurrectionist leader had taken CT’s armor as his own, adopting her name and using her for his cause. He heard Tucker and Caboose snoring in the cots next to him, fully realizing that he had dreamt of _that_ with the two of them in the room. He then took in where exactly his own right hand was, hearing the waistband snap from his sweats.

 

“I need a cold shower.” Wash quietly shuffled out of the room, heading to the bathrooms, his towel covering the erection that remained. “I am far too old to be having sex dreams.” Not about her. Not again. This is too much like last time. Too much like all the other times. Letting people see him like this, vulnerable, wanting, made him afraid. Afraid his brain would use it against him in some way if they got hurt. If they were taken. _If they died._

 

\---

 

“Wash.” Tucker’s call was met with silence. Wash looked up from his book, pushing his reading glasses higher. “Aren’t you supposed to have perfect vision to be in the military?”

 

“What do you want?” Wash asked, bending the end of the page and setting it on the crate next to his cot. He crossed his legs and folded up his glasses, tucking them away in a small case. He motioned for Tucker to sit on the other end of the bed, laying his back against the wall, facing the door instead of looking at Wash directly.

 

“I want to know why you continue to avoid my questions despite being on our side for over two years now,” Tucker continued after sitting down, “we’re supposed to be teammates, yet you keep shutting m--us out on a regular basis.”

 

“Funny, I seem to remember you saying all you wanted was your friend back and all you had was me.”

 

“Look, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I’m torn between wanting to know you more and being afraid that you’ll leave again. I just don’t understand why you won’t let anyone be close to you.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, Tucker,” Wash said with a wave of his hand, “I’m not going anywhere. Just, let me get more comfortable okay? This entire situation, Church and Carolina leaving, the ship crash, that Felix guy, Locus, all of it has me on edge. Just, some time would be nice to process the fact that I want to let you all in.”

 

“Why would you be afraid of that?” Tucker asked, his hand resting on Wash’s knee.

 

“Tucker, at this point, you know how many people I’ve had leave me. I don’t want to add more people to care about to that list that I’ll have to mourn.”

 

“That’s selfish… and lonely.”

 

“In some ways, it’s easier. I don’t have to worry about if someone car--” Wash was cut off by Tucker’s lips sealing on his after Tucker stood to leave.

 

“Well, if you ever want someone to care--”

 

“Tucker no, don’t say it.”


End file.
